The Commander's Regret (XCOM 2)
by JD-Spinner of Yarns
Summary: I don't care what they call me. I'm the Commander? What's the point? Why do I deserve to live so much more than those people you sacrificed to save me? Why didn't you leave me, Central? You should have left me. (Rated T for bad language)


The Commander's Regret

 _Inspired by an offhand comment by Bradford at the beginning of XCOM 2 and my own grief every time I lose a soldier in the game._

My head was still swimming when I sat up from my bed. The constant ache that vibrated the inside of my skull made me wish the damn chip had just killed me. The question plagued me then as it does to this day. Why am I still alive? Why didn't those bastard aliens just kill me twenty years ago? I guess they thought they'd use my mind to hone their battle strategies. I mean, that is the _why_ of it, technically. But I always ask a bigger question. Why was this allowed to happen? Why do I deserve to live? I soon learned more of the 'whys' on those, too, but with me there's always a bigger 'why.'

I pulled myself to the desk, my desk I suppose, on this strange ship Central had called 'Avenger.' A fitting name, I guess, considering our goal. They had quarters set aside for me. I still find that dumbfounding. Why set aside quarters for a person you're not even certain is still alive? I guess Central really did miss me that much.

All my melancholy thoughts returned to me and my mind kept hanging on some of the first words Central said to me when I woke up on that operating table. "Lost a lot of good soldiers looking for you over the years."

Lost a lot of good soldiers. For me? Why? Why would he do that? Didn't that man learn anything from me? I never did get the crying faces of the families out of my head. Every time we lost one back in the first invasion it killed me. I always resented the officers, cozy and safe back at HQ, while we grunts on the front line did all their fucking work for them. The people we lost back when I just fought humans... it never felt right that they should suffer while the fat cat officers just laid back like war was nothing. And then I became one of those officers. I started giving the orders to the loyal people on the front lines and they admired me. They called me a hero.

It's all a blur now, how I came to earn that rank. My first promotion, the squad I led into battle, getting chosen for that special ops program and then coming to lead it, I could hardly remember any of it. Then the invasion happened and I was the Commander of the XCOM Project. I still am, I guess. Central still says the word with this awe in his voice that I loathe. I wish the man would stop fawning over me like I'm some kind of goddamn angel.

Central. Central Officer John Bradford. Why wouldn't he just move on without me? He always knew how much it hurt me to lose a soldier in the field. And yet there he sits, first thing I wake up in this fucked up future world, and he tells me they lost a lot of good soldiers looking for me. We never lost a lot of good soldiers when I was in command. I never would have allowed it. I care about everyone under my command. I am responsible for their lives. I do everything in my power to keep them alive and get them out of danger. That's my job. It's supposed to be Central's job, too.

I noticed a keyboard then to my right, embedded into my desk. A blue button near the top has a picture of a telephone on it. Weird that I live in a world without them, now. Instead we use ridiculous things like this. I pressed the button and a holographic screen jumped to life in front of me. I saw Central's tired face stare back at me from the other side.

"What's going on, Commander?"

I cleared my throat and let out a long breath. My damn head was still swimming and the pain made me want to pass out. But I buried the pain, like I always do, and pushed the words out.

"Central, come up to my quarters. I want to talk to you."

"Sure thing, Commander. I'll be there as soon as I can."

The screen blinked off and I leaned back in my chair. Christ, did Central sound old these days. He had such a youthful voice back during the invasion. He seemed so much more upbeat back then. I guess twenty years of hell on this shithole the aliens turned our fucking planet into will wear you down.

The metal doors slid open and the tired, grizzled man stepped to my desk and saluted me, standing at attention.

"You wanted to see me, Commander?"

"At ease, Central," I said. "And sit down."

Central relaxed and pulled up a chair in front of my desk. "What's on your mind, Commander?"

I stood uneasily from my seat and Central stood with me. "Hey, take it easy. You should-"

"Sit down, Central," I said, mustering as much authority as I could in my voice. "I'm fine."

Central eased himself back into his chair and I took several unsteady steps toward the electronic board behind my desk. "It's been a shitty twenty years, hasn't it?" I asked.

"Without you, Commander, yeah. It has."

"It would have been shitty even if I was here."

"Might have been better," Central said. "You always did know what to do."

"That's not true," I said. "I didn't know how to stop them from taking us down so fast after the initial invasion."

"Commander, we couldn't have known."

"We should have."

I let out a long breath and closed my eyes. My skull was still on fire after that operation. I wanted to curse Tygan for what he did but I couldn't blame him. He thought he was saving someone's life. And he wasn't the one who commanded all of those soldiers in my absence.

"So... is this what you wanted to talk about, Commander? The old days?"

I turned around to face him again and had to sit down when the dizziness threatened to overtake me. "I want you to tell me how many."

"How many what, Commander?"

"How many soldiers?"

Central furrowed his brow. "Um, well, we've got eight for the deployment squads right now but there are resistance cells all over where we could recruit more."

"No, Central. How many soldiers died trying to find me?"

"Commander, I don't think it's a good idea to-"

"How many, Central?"

Central's shoulders slumped forward and his already tired eyes only grew more weary with the weight of the question. He tried to speak but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"You don't know, do you?" I asked.

"All I know is that we lost a lot of them. On mostly dead ends, too. But, like I told you, we finally got that good piece of intel and-"

"I don't need to hear it again," I said.

"Right. Sorry, Commander."

I took in another long breath. "I don't think sorry is going to cut it, Central."

"Commander?"

"You should have left me," I said. "You sacrificed all those people, women and men with families and futures. You let them all die for me."

"Commander, we need you. If we're going to take back this planet from Advent we need you to guide us. We're lost without you."

"No you're not," I said. "You know what to do. I taught you how to look after our people, Bradford. I taught you basic respect and decency. You and I were both on the front lines once. We both know what it's like. You look after your fucking people, Central!"

"Commander, I tried. But I'm just not as good as-"

"As who? As me? Stop your pointless fucking fawning, Central! I'm not some infallible deity! I'm a human like you and all those fucking soldiers you sent to their deaths!"

"We had to get you back, Commander. For the good of humanity. We can save this world now."

"You always could. You never needed me. How did you think this would go over with me, Bradford? How do you think I was going to react when I heard of the people you lost trying to save me?"

"Commander, I did the right thing. I'm sorry for the people we lost but I had to get you back. Just look at the people here now. They were miserable before you got here. We all thought we were doomed. You give us hope, Commander. You know why? Because you can save this world."

I let out another deep breath and did my best to swallow my anger. "Do you remember Operation Purple Fall, Central?"

"You mean back during the invasion? The one in that fishing village in Newfoundland?"

"With the chrysalids spawning inside that whale, yes."

"I do remember, Commander."

"What about Artyom? Do you remember him?"

"I... I'm sorry but I don't."

"He sent the signal from that ship. He even bought time for the rest of the squad to escape that day. He was bombed to hell right along with those chrysalids, Central. And he wasn't the only one we lost that day. It was the only time we lost two. Froman was killed that day because he tried to go back for Artyom. Two gone in one mission. I never forgave myself for that. The other four were so broken up about it. Froman was such a positive guy and Artyom was a wild man. They loved to keep spirits up. They even used to sing together. Christ, they were bad."

"Yeah, I remember that much. But I'm bad with names, Commander."

"You always were," I said. "But I doubt you forget what I said to you that day. Do you?"

"No, Commander."

"What did I say to you?"

"Two words: Never again."

"Never. Again. And we didn't lose a single soldier until... well, you remember the rest."

We both went silent for a few moments. I still had to bury my anger when I tried to speak next. "How many did you lose on that last mission where you found me, Central?"

Central lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. "Three. Only Jane survived. We couldn't get there in time."

"Three," I repeated. "And they are the last three names I read on that memorial in the bar?"

"You've been down there already, Commander?"

"I run this ship now," I said. "I thought it best to acquaint myself with it."

Central cleared his throat. "Yes. They put their names down before I even had a chance to go down there and do it myself. These soldiers are tight knit, Commander."

"In XCOM they always have been," I said.

"I know," Central said.

"Which is just another reason we take care of our people. They matter to each other and they matter to us."

"You always said that, Commander. I guess you haven't changed."

"And I never will when it comes to our people, Central. I wish I could say the same for you."

Central stood from his chair and this time I stood with him. We each stepped toward each other and looked each other in the eye.

"Commander, I regret the loss of those people. I always have and I always will. But what I did was for the good of our planet. Our home, Commander. This planet needs you here. With XCOM."

"Well then let me clear. Now that I am here with XCOM again then we do not lose another soldier under my or your command, Central. We keep our people safe and we will take back our fucking home from these scumbag fucking aliens. There is no other option. I will play my role and you will play yours. Understood?"

Central stepped back and saluted me again. "Yes, Commander."

I turned away from him and moved slowly back toward my desk. "Go back about your business, Central."

I heard the doors slide open and shut before I sat back down in my chair again. I leaned back and closed my eyes. All the memories flashed back to me then. I remembered Purple Fall. Artyom's battle cry followed by the screams of pain. Froman's anguished yell when his best friend fell and then the hiss of death that rattled through his body. Those memories have never left me and they never will. Now I have this regret of my own existence hanging over my head. Damn you, Central. You should have left me.


End file.
